


I Can't Be Saved

by lusciouslouanne



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 11:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusciouslouanne/pseuds/lusciouslouanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Singer/songwriter DiDi Chapman has damn near hit rock bottom. She's broke and about to get evicted, but her coke habit and her love of tequila are too difficult to kick. She's not sure anything could turn her life around until she gets a call from Simon Cowell, and he's got an offer she can't walk away from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Day

My alarm jarred me awake at 6am. Immediately all the tequila I had plied myself with the night before needed to come out. I ran to the bathroom, knocking over empty fifths and pill bottles on the way, and threw up violently until my stomach was empty.

I got off my knees and looked at myself in the mirror, wiping the tears off my cheeks. Jesus Christ, I look disgusting. My eyes were bloodshot and there was black eye makeup all over my face. My hair was dirty and I smelled like I hadn’t showered in a week, which very well may have been the case. I couldn’t remember the last few days. I had just taken a job with Simon Cowell and my first day was already looking like it could be a disaster.

I used some redness-reducing eye drops and got in the shower. I had to get out twice to throw up before I was done even washing my hair. I applied enough makeup to cover the dark circles under my eyes and lazily scrunched my hair with my blow dryer. I picked out my most “rock ‘n’ roll” outfit and some shit-kicker boots.

As I drove downtown, I recalled our phone conversation from the previous week.

"All due respect, Mr. Cowell, I definitely appreciate the call, but I’ve listened to the group’s other two albums. My material is considerably darker. Are you sure this is the, excuse the pun, direction you want their music to go?"

"DiDi, I went through hundreds of demos to find the sound we’re looking for, and I liked what I heard on yours. So did the boys. They’re getting older now and we want their music to get older, too. Is that something you can work with?"

"Absolutely. Thank you for the opportunity, sir."

"Great. Why don’t you come down to the studio Monday morning and meet the boys? You can hammer out details and schedules with them. How’s 9am?"

 

So I arrived at the studio at twenty minutes to 9, and nervously smoked a cigarette before entering the building. I had to go through some HR bullshit - signing contracts, tax forms, and non-disclosure agreements, getting an ID badge, etc. - and made my way upstairs to the Syco suite.

"DiDi Chapman," I said, showing my new badge to the receptionist, "I have an appointment with Mr. Cowell and One Direction."

"Right this way," she said, coming around the desk, and leading me to a conference room down the hall. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, I’m fine, thanks."

"Okay, Mr. Cowell is just finishing up a phone conference. He should be in shortly."

She left me to my own devices, shutting the massive double doors behind her. I took pens and notebooks out of my messenger bag, scattering them in front of me on the table. I sat and doodled in one of the notebooks, snapping my gum, until the doors swung open again. I shot out of my chair.

"Mr. Cowell," I said, extending my hand to him.

"Ms. Chapman, lovely to meet you in person," he said, taking my hand. "Boys, this is DiDi Chapman, she’ll be collaborating with you on the new album. DiDi, this is Niall Horan, Harry Styles, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, and Louis Tomlinson."

I shook each of their hands in turn, exchanging pleasantries, and then the seven of us took our seats around the table. Zayn and Liam sat quietly, looking almost bashful, but Harry, Louis, and Niall were jabbering back and forth, picking up a conversation they must have been having in the hall.

"Right, DiDi," Simon said, quieting the boys, "a couple things we didn’t go over on the phone. First, this is a 24/7 job. Some of the boys work better during the day, some of them like to work well into the night. I want you to exchange phone numbers with all of them, and you’ll need to be available when they are. Any questions?"

"No, sir," I replied.

"Good. Next order of business," he said, handing me a key. "We have a loft set up here downtown so you don’t always have to meet at the studio. You don’t have to live there, you can come and go as you please. It’s fully furnished with a well stocked kitchen so you won’t need to worry about food or drink while you’re there, and you can sleep there if you need to. Now the boys know the rules, but just as a refresher: There are NO parties or inappropriate behavior. This is a work space, not a bachelor pad. Or bachelorette pad, as the case may be. You need to smoke, you do it outside. You want to see your friends, you do it at home. Understood?"

We all nodded our heads ‘yes.’

"Perfect. I’ll leave you to it, then."

He left the room, and the boys started chattering again.

"DiDi," I looked up. It was Harry. "Is that short for something?"

"It is."

"Are you going to tell me what for?"

"I’m not," I said, writing my phone number down, and sliding it toward the boys.

"Mysterious. How old are you?" he persisted.

"Older than you."

"Harry’s okay with that," Niall said, elbowing Harry in the ribs.

"You can each just shoot me a text, I’ll get your numbers that way. I’d like to meet with all of you one-on-one to get a sense of your individual writing styles before we group up. I need to run home before we get started, so figure it out amongst yourselves and one of you meet me at the loft in two hours." I gathered all my stuff back into my bag, and left without waiting for a response.

….

By the time I got home, all five boys had sent me a text with their names, and I saved them to my contacts. I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to come home next after this, so I packed a small bag with some essentials - deodorant, face wash, clean underwear - and set it by the front door with my messenger bag. I sat on the couch and grabbed a nearly empty bottle of tequila off the floor. I slugged back what remained with a couple benzos and snorted the small line of coke I had left on the table.

I settled back on the couch and let the high sink in. I still wasn’t sure taking this job was a good idea, but I really needed the money. My rent was already a week late, and now I was out of coke.

….

An hour and a half later, I got off the elevator on the 20th floor and found the door to the loft. As I was fumbling for the key, the door swung open and I fell through it, caught by a pair of muscular arms. Liam.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry." I pushed past him into the common room. "Holy shit. This place is fucking huge. Like I could fit my apartment in here 5 times."

"You’re late."

"Sorry. I got held up at home. Should we get started?" I asked him, pulling a fresh bottle of tequila from my bag.

"Are you drunk?"

"Are you gonna tell on me, choir boy?"

"No."

"Okay. Do you want a drink then?"

"No, I don’t really drink."

"Wow, you really are a choir boy." I found a glass in the kitchenette and filled it. "Let’s do this then."

….

Liam and I spent the next few hours tossing out ideas. He was really, very good looking, and he had a great body, but he was so serious. I needed someone looser to work with when I was on a buzz like this. Relief came when Niall called around 5pm and said he wanted to stop by.

"Okay, let me wrap things up with Liam. Give us 20 minutes," I said, disconnecting and tossing aside the notes we’d made. "Alright, you gotta go. Niall’s on his way up. Good work today, we’ll pick up here next time."

"You just told him to give us 20 minutes," he said, confused.

"Yes, but I’m almost out of tequila and something tells me Niall isn’t the goody-two-shoes you are."

I left the loft and found a liquor store on the corner. Stocked up with tequila and beer, I headed back and got there just as Niall was getting on the elevator.

"Niall! Hold the elevator!"

"Hey! Whoa, no parties, remember? What are you doing?"

"Oh, come on! I thought you were the fun one! This is for us, Irish."

He laughed, “Alright, I’m game.”

….

Niall and I drank, talked, and laughed until 2 o’clock in the morning. We’d hardly gotten any work done at all.

"Okay, we should probably call it quits. We’ve barely got anything on paper, and it’s getting late."

"It’s cool. We can just crash here. There’s like 5 bedrooms."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’m just gonna get cleaned up, then. I’ll see you in the morning."

I found one of the bathrooms, used the toilet, and splashed some cold water in my face. I was daring myself to look in the mirror when there was a soft knock on the bathroom door. I opened it and Niall was standing there in his boxers with a carnal hunger in his eyes. He pushed me against the counter and put his mouth on mine.

"Whoa, Niall. I don’t think we should do this," I said, pushing him away. "We should try and keep this professional."

"We just spent the last, like, 9 hours drinking together. There hasn’t been a professional thing about this whole night. Come on, you said I was the fun one. Let’s have some fun."

I thought about it for about half a second before kicking off my boots and jumping on the counter. “Let’s go then, Irish.”

He ripped my jeans and underwear off and crashed his mouth against mine again. He tasted like beer and he smelled so good. I pulled his boxers down and bit into his neck as he plunged into me.


	2. Wait for Me

The front door of the loft slammed shut, waking me suddenly from a dead sleep. Niall was naked in bed next to me.

"DiDi? Are you still here?" I couldn’t tell who it was, but they were coming closer.

"Shit! Niall, wake up!" I whispered urgently, shoving him.

“‘S’okay. It’s just Louis,” he said, pulling a pillow over his head.

I jumped out of bed, and scrambled to find my clothes. Fuck! They were still on the bathroom floor. The bedroom door swung open just as I was pulling a sheet off the bed to wrap around my body.

"Oh! Sorry," Louis said, starting to back out of the room. "I’ll just wai - Niall?"

Niall raised an arm, waving at him from under the covers. I held my breath while Louis worked out what he was witnessing.

"What the fuck are you guys doing?"

"Listen, Tommo, we were here late, we had a few drinks, one thing led to another," Niall explained, sitting up.

"Whatever. Don’t let Simon find out or he’ll kill you both," Louis replied, sharply pulling the door shut behind him.

Niall laughed and crawled back under the sheets. “C’mere, babe. You wanna go again?”

I ignored him and did my walk of shame to the bathroom to get myself cleaned up. I came back into the living area, trying to avoid looking Louis in the eye.

"Let me just clean up some of the work we did last night, and you and I can get started." I shuffled some papers and cleared away the empty beer cans. "I’m - uh - I’m sorry you had to see that in there."

"Nothing I haven’t seen before, love."

"Right. I just - I want to try and keep things as professional as possible."

"And you thought the best way to do that was sleeping with Niall? Makes sense," he said, sarcastically.

"You said you weren’t judging me."

"No, I said I’d seen it all before. You’re not the first drunk slut to come through here and get all love struck. I don’t care if you sleep with Zayn and Liam, too, but stay the fuck away from Harry."

I jumped back as if he’d slapped me. “You don’t know the first thing about me, you spoiled, little prick.”

Niall came out of the bedroom as I was lunging at Louis, and caught me around the middle, restraining me.

"Whoa! What the fuck is going on out here?"

"Your girlfriend’s got a fucking mouth on her, that’s what’s going on!" Louis shouted.

"DiDi, take a walk," Niall said, pushing me toward the front door.

I grabbed my shoes and bag from the entryway and rode the elevator down to the lobby, shaking the whole way. I stepped out of the building onto the sidewalk, snatched my phone from my bag, and dialed my dealer.

"Hey, Rocco, it’s DiDi," I said, when he answered.

"Heyyyyy, Princess! What can I do for you this morning?"

"I need a favor."

"Of course you do, Princess."

I silently rolled my eyes before continuing. I hated his little nickname for me. “Can you just float me some for, like, 2 weeks tops? I’ve got a new gig, but it could be a few days before I get paid, and I gotta pay my rent, and - “

"Slow down, Di. Meet me in 20, I’ll take care of you."

….

I was headed back to the building 35 minutes later with enough coke to last me at least 3 weeks. I owed Rocco big time and I knew he’d be around to collect if I couldn’t come up with the money. Louis was waiting for me on one of the couches when I returned to the loft.

"Still here? Wanted to see the love struck, drunk slut in action?"

"I’m sorry about all that. I’ve had a rough week and I took it out on you. You’re right, I was being a prick."

"Thank you. Now, let’s take all that pent up shit and put it into the music. I just need to use the bathroom first, I’ll be right back. Is Niall still here?" I asked, making my way down the hall.

"No," Louis called behind me, "he left about five minutes ago."

I shut the door and took a deep breath before quickly breaking up a line on the counter. Getting as much as I could up my nose, and gumming the rest, I let the high kick in before rejoining Louis in the common area.

"So you and Niall, huh?" he asked as I settled myself across from him.

"Yeah, I’m not discussing that with you."

"Why not?"

"Because these sessions aren’t about my life and my feelings. They’re about yours."

"So you have feelings for him."

"Louis, drop it. You’re killing my buzz."

"You holding out on me?"

I looked at him, unsure. “That depends on what you want.”

"Pot."

"Yeah, I’ve got a few grams."

"What are you waiting for? Spark it up."

"I thought we weren’t supposed to smoke in here."

"Well, we’re not supposed to have sex here either, but you’ve already broken that rule, haven’t ya? What’s one more?"

"I feel like I’m corrupting your innocence."

"Bitch, please."

"Fine," I laughed, tossing him the weed from my bag. I sat back and watched him expertly break it up.

"Papers?"

Impressed, I took them from my bag and handed them over. He swiftly filled the paper, and rolled it into a slim joint, then held it out to me.

"Roller’s rights," I said, putting my hands up. He grabbed my lighter from the table, and sparked the joint, inhaling deeply. "Easy, Killer. That ain’t the sissy shit."

I grabbed my guitar, and we were off. We spent the entire day smoking, laughing, and we wrote even more than I had with Liam. My phone went off just before 11pm.

"Hold on, Harry’s calling me. Write that down. It’s good." I walked into the kitchen and answered the call. "The cheeky one. About time I heard from you."

He laughed, “Are you at the loft right now?”

"Yeah, I’m here with Louis."

"Still?"

"Yeah, we’ve gotten a lot done today. You wanna swing by?"

"Uh…yeah. I’ll head over now."

"Great, see you soon." I disconnected and went back to Louis. "Harry’s on his way."

"What? Now?" He suddenly looked frazzled.

"Yeah. Is that a problem? I thought you two were, like, best friends."

"He hates it when I smoke. I have to go," he jumped off the couch, and started clearing away lyric sheets.

"Dude, chill." I reached into my makeup bag and handed him my eye drops.

"Thanks," he said, putting a couple drops in each eye. "I should still go."

"Alright. I’ll call you in a few days."

Louis left and I went to the bathroom to snort another line and take a quick shower while I waited for Harry. I finished washing my hair, and stood in the water, letting the heat relax my muscles. The door creaked open, and I saw a tall shadow on the other side of the shower curtain.

"I’ll be out in a minute," I said.

The curtain was pulled aside, and Harry stepped into the shower completely naked. “Take your time.”

"What are you doing?"

"I heard this is how you’re doing things. Niall said you were the best he’s had in a long time," he said, coming toward me.

I put my hands on his chest, and traced the bird tattoos on his wet skin with the tips of my fingers. “Louis said I had to stay away from you.”

"Louis’ not here right now," he whispered, pushing me against the wall of the shower. "Do you want me or not?"

I looked into his beautiful green eyes and nodded, letting him lift me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. He slipped his long fingers inside me and bit my bottom lip. Letting out a moan, I shoved his arm aside and lowered myself onto him.

"God, you are so hot," he groaned.

"No talking. Just fuck me."

….

Three days later, I still hadn’t heard from Zayn, and he wasn’t answering my calls, so I called Simon.

"Mr. Cowell, it’s DiDi Chapman."

"Good afternoon, Ms. Chapman. How are things going so far?"

"Really good. You’ve got some talented boys on your hands. I just have one small issue."

"Go on."

"Zayn. I haven’t been able to reach him all week, and he’s the only one I haven’t sat down with yet. I expressed to all the boys that I wanted to meet them one-on-one before pairing them up, so I’m at a stand still until Zayn and I get something on the books."

"I’ll take care of it," he said, exasperated. "Do you have plans tonight?"

"Yes, actually."

"Cancel them."

"I can’t, sir. I have an acoustic gig downtown."

"Fine. I’ll handle Zayn. He’ll be in touch."

I started to thank him but he’d already hung up. I rolled over and pressed my feet into Niall’s naked back. He’d been here with me since the previous morning.

"Don’t you have somewhere to be, Irish?"

"No. I’m staying in bed with you all day."

"No, you’re not. Did you not hear me? I have a gig tonight."

"That’s hours from now," he said, rolling on top of me. "Think of what we could get up to until then."

"No more sex. You want to stay in bed all day? We’re at least gonna be productive. Go get our guitars." He groaned and rolled off of me. "And beer!" I called after him.

He came back and sat across from me at the end of the bed, handing me a beer and my guitar, and starting plucking a melody I didn’t recognize on his.

"That’s pretty. What is it?"

"Not sure yet. It’s been stuck in my head for a few days, but I haven’t found the words for it."

"Maybe I can help."

"I’ll figure it out."

"Okay. Do you want to pick up with the song we were working on last night?"

….

I left Niall at the loft and headed across town. I hadn’t done coke in 2 days because Niall hadn’t left, and for some reason I didn’t want to do it with him around, so I couldn’t wait to get to my dressing room. I walked through the back door of the club, and signaled to the bartender to bring me a drink. After I changed and blew a line off the counter, I sat down to do my makeup, and there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" I yelled over the loud music thumping from the front of the club. "Hey, Stella. Thanks."

She set my drink in front of me. “There’s someone up front asking for you. Tall, dark, and gorgeous. British accent.”

"What? I didn’t tell any of them I was going to be here."

"Any of who?"

"I’m working on One Direction’s new album with them. It has to be one of them. Did he give his name?"

"Oh my God!! I knew he looked familiar! No. He seemed really anxious."

"Send him back."

Stella stood back and wiggled her fingers in the direction of the bar. A minute later, Zayn appeared in the doorway. “I’ll leave you two alone,” Stella said, winking at me, and walking away.

"What are you doing here, Zayn?"

He came in and closed the door. “Simon said to come see you.”

"How did he know where to find me?"

"Dunno. Guess he called around to find out where you were playing. He said if I wasn’t going to write with you, I had to come hear you sing."

"Any particular reason you haven’t been returning my calls?"

"I’ve been going through some personal shit."

"That’s exactly when you should be writing. You’re what, 20 years old?" He nodded. "Jesus. And you’re in the biggest boy band in the universe. Don’t you have a long term girlfriend, too? What could possibly be bringing you down? You’re literally on top of the world right now."

"We broke up."

"You’re making my point for me, Zayn. You need to get those feelings on paper while they’re still raw. What happened?"

He sat on the counter, and I went back to fixing my eyeliner while we talked. “There were all these rumors that I was cheating on her, so she dumped me.”

"Did you?"

"What?"

"Cheat."

"That doesn’t matter. She believed the press instead of me. I can’t be with someone like that."

"Hmmm. I guess life sucks for the beautiful people, too."

“Too?”

"What?"

"You said ‘life sucks for the beautiful people, too.’”

"Too. Also. As well as. In addition."

"I understand what ‘too’ means."

"Then what’s your question?"

"You don’t consider yourself to be a beautiful person? I think you’re gorgeous," he mumbled.

"Shut the fuck up right now, or I’ll kick you out."

He put his hands up in surrender, and sat quietly while I finished my makeup and fixed my hair.

Stella came back with another drink. “Five more minutes, DiDi. Does your friend wanna stay back here or watch from the VIP lounge?”

Zayn opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “He’ll be in VIP. Don’t tell a soul he’s here, Stel, he’ll get fucking mobbed.”

"You got it, cherie,” she said, in her Louisiana drawl, running her thumb and forefinger across her lips like a zipper, and backing out of the room.

"I can’t hang out here!" Zayn yelled as soon as the door was closed. "Even if she doesn’t say anything, I’ll get spotted."

"Relax. The VIP is upstairs. There’s a bouncer that Stella has already instructed to clear the lounge. You’ll be the only one up there, and it’s surrounded by 2-way glass. You’ll be able to see the whole club, but no one will be able to see you. No one will know you’re here. Now, put your sunglasses on, put your hood up, and go upstairs." I stuck my head out the door and signaled to the bouncer. He gave me the ‘coast is clear’ sign, and I shoved Zayn into the hallway.

….

I ran back to my dressing room after my first set, and had just done a small bump when the door flew open.

"That was amazing. You are amazing. Why aren’t you recording and touring?” Zayn grabbed me and kissed me, slow and sweet.

I pushed him back gently, “Zayn, I can’t.”

"Oh my God, I’m so sorry."

"No, no. It’s okay. I just - I have another set. Wait here for me."


End file.
